Reynard did not make George wait. He lifted his head, took a deep breath, and hurriedly began. “I’m—sure you must know how I feel about Kendra.”
George nodded.
“I—I wish to marry her, sir.”
He stopped and toyed with his hat. George watched him, sensing his nervousness and feeling empathy, yet at the same time aware of some discomfort of his own. He had known this would come. He couldn’t possibly keep her forever. Yet—He wished there were some way to put it off. To hold on to her for just a bit longer.
He drew in a big sigh, turning his gaze off somewhere in the distance, his left hand stroking his graying beard. He wasn’t ready to answer—yet.
“I’m asking you, sir, for her hand in marriage.”
At last George stirred himself. He turned to look at the eager, nervous young man. There was no one to whom he would sooner entrust his little girl.
“What does Kendra say?” he asked.
Reynard looked surprised. “Oh, I wouldn’t ask Kendra before asking you, sir. I need your permission—for that.”
George looked steadily at the young man. He nodded silently. “Then perhaps you should ask her—now—with my permission,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even and controlled.
Without rising from his seat, he turned toward the house.
“Kendra,” he called, and Kendra answered through the open window.
“Can you join us?”
When she came from the house, Kendra was surprised to see Reynard. She hesitated, reaching down to nervously toy with the hem of her apron.
Reynard stood to his feet, his eyes on Kendra’s face. George waited a moment, then said, “This young man has just asked for your hand in marriage.” Both men heard the sharp intake of Kendra’s breath.
Silence followed while Kendra cast a glance toward Reynard. He looked at her pleadingly as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“How do you feel about it?” asked George. “Do you wish to marry him?”
It seemed too blunt. So—so sudden. Kendra lowered her gaze, her hands still twisting in the apron.
“Well—?”
Kendra lifted her eyes and looked directly into those of the young man.
“Yes,” she said, and her voice was strong. “Yes—I wish to marry him.”
Reynard stepped quickly forward and reached for Kendra’s shoulders.
“I guess it’s settled then,” said George. But no one seemed to be listening.
The two stood close to each other, their eyes exchanging promises of love. George knew he had been forgotten. He cleared his throat loudly and Reynard stirred, his cheeks coloring slightly.
“You’d better get that girl out of here and let her know how special she is,” suggested George. “There are too many nosy neighbors for you to be saying it here in the garden.”
“Thank you, sir,” Reynard said, and his voice was filled with excitement. Confidence.
George watched them go. One hand reached down to stroke Oscar, who had moved to press up against his knee, the other reached toward his beard.
Though he fought against the tears, they could not be held in check. His little girl had left childhood behind and entered womanhood. He had known it would come. Should have been prepared, but it all seemed to have happened so quickly. Wasn’t it only yesterday that he had stood in the garden of the Home, bracing himself for the meeting with a nearly four-year-old. Now—now—
He wiped carelessly at the tears with his flannel sleeve. If only—if only Mary could see her now. A beautiful young woman—vibrant—in love.
He had to let her go—with his blessing.